


sketch

by 2xcross



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Humor, Story within a Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26154958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2xcross/pseuds/2xcross
Summary: “Aren’t ya bein’ too chill ‘bout all of this?“I’m still hopin’ yer pullin’ me leg, lad.”
Relationships: Demoman & Scout (Team Fortress 2), Scout & Soldier (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	sketch

**Author's Note:**

> if you can bear with a ludicrous amount of accent...
> 
> (you didn't see that ridiculous dyslexic mistake here in this note, okay?)

When Demo went to the boardroom with Scout, he was expecting to see the kid draw cartoons of team members—including themselves—on the greenboard, as Scout announced before with great fanfare. Instead, because the chalk was nowhere to be found (somebody either took it, or ate it), they were just talking, if that counts as taking turns between each one’s monologues. Scout jumped from one theme to another before Demo could interrupt him, but as soon the kid said something moderately interesting, he took the floor and didn’t let it go until he was done, and so on.

It was amusing, the young lad made him laugh until his belly ached. What Scout said often didn’t make any sense, and his stories were embellished by his bullshit. Any seriousness Scout tried to have when narrating was gone with the fact that he was sitting on a school desk, playing with one of his baseball balls in his hand. Demo was on a stool in front of him, near the board—his _vest_ tented to get stuck in those stupid small desks.

He was having fun, until one of Scout’s stories wasn't as pleasant.

“Yooo, do ya remember when Soldier almost killed ya?”

“Which time?”

“I dunno man, ya tell me,” Scout smirked.

Demo sighed: it was a long list. He also knew that Scout was going to spit it all as soon as he got too bored anyway.

“Fine.” He cleared his throat before beginning. “When we fell through a glass roof?”

That one was _excruciating_. On the other hand, the office workers' faces were priceless.

“Nope.”

“Alright. What about the time he pushed down me blastin’ machine before I was done with a job?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Goddamnit.”

Scout chortled. “We can be here all day!”

“Well lad, I dinnae want to! It has to do with an explosion, right?”

Scout put one hand on his chin. “No, not really. For once, I ‘spose.”

He laughed again, as Demo’s jaw fell. _No explosion? What in the bloody..._

“It has to do with a bad restaurant?” he tried again.

“How the hell can ya die from that?”

That one was painful too.

“I dinnae wanna explain.”

“But—!”

“ _Shhh!_ ” Demo shushed Scout before he could think too much on that. “What about when we tried to blow out said restaurant with methane gas?”

 _God’s punishment,_ in Soldier’s words.

“What did I tell ya ‘bout no explosions! Ya ain’t playin’ any attention—Also, wouldn’t that be _ya_ almost killin’ Solly?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just tell me another clue!”

“No man, no clues. Aside from ya not rememberin’ anythin’. It was crazy...”

Scout looked up, recalling his own memories. Meanwhile, Demo frowned, blinking several times with his only eye.

“...What?”

Abruptly, Scout pointed at Demo, nearly startling him.

“Ah yeah that’s right! _Ya can’t remember!_ ”

He snickered, hitting the desk with his free palm.

“Scout.”

He continued laughing.

“ _Scout!_ ”

“Okay, I’m gonna tell ya.” He wiped off a single tear, annoying even more Demo, who definitely wasn’t as pleased as before. “Okay, so...”

_It was a windy day outside. Warm desert breeze, that didn’t find anything better to do than taking Scout’s cap from his hair, the one day he wasn’t wearing his headphones. He convinced Soldier and Demoman—it didn’t matter if Demo was insisting that very moment that he likely **begged** them—to help him to find his hat. It didn’t take too long until they saw it at the top of a lamppost._

_Scout suggested climbing it by the cable that was touching the dirt, with its wires exposed, as it was a rope. Demo for some whatever reason commanded it to no, to not even make any contact with the cable, ever._

“Ye would’ve _died_.”

“That’s what _ya_ say.”

Demo groaned.

“Remember anythin’ yet?”

“No...”

“Well as I was sayin’... ‘n by the way, if I ya’d let me do that, I wouldn’t be tellin’ ya ‘dis...”

_Soldier agreed with Scout for once, even after Demo explained to Soldier the **supposed** dangers of committing to that plan—“Ha, o’ coorse he did!”—, but Demo persuaded Soldier to race him to the top, explosive jumping with their respective weapons._

“How the hell’s that any safer?!”

“ _Yes, It, Was!_ ” Demo shouted. “Keep talkin’!”

“Well, _as I was sayin’_ , after ya two _dumbs_ were back...”

“ _UGH!_ ”

“Both snatched my hat at the same time, so after ya fell, both fought on the dirt. Most importantly, I got my hat back, so I dunno who really won that. I’m gonna give it that to ya, that was fun to watch, even if ya were wrong. _Uhh..._ The End.”

Scout beamed, with the same demeanor of a kid who finished a poorly done presentation, hoping for a somewhat decent grade.

Demo blew air through his nose. “How, that has to do with me losin’ me memory?”

“Ah crap, right...”

_After the bombers dusted themselves off, Demo took a swing from his bad taste, favorite bottle. ‘Cuz beer it’s better, why couldn’t he just drink beer instead... Anyway. Demo took a looong swing, while Soldier was turning around with his bazooka on his shoulder, hitting Demo in his head and sending him to the floor unconscious._

Demo slapped his knee. “God, fuckin’, dammit!”

“Your fault, I already told ya. If ya...”

“Ye better keep goin’ before I break yer spine, lad.”

_Scout n’ Soldier gathered around Demo, whose body was turned to one side while his head was to another. Soldier decided to move Demo’s face to the same side of his body, taking him by his neck in such a way that would fix any possible broken neck back to normal._

“I’m gonna keep talkin’ even if ya are hidin’ your face behind your big hands as this was an horror movie.”

“ _Scout,_ ” Demo inflected as deep and slow as he could.

“Alright, alright...”

_And then they waited, below the shining sun, ‘til Demo finally woke up (it took forever, ya wouldn’t believe it)._

_“Welcome back from the dead!” greeted Soldier._

_Scout knew better, that’s not how one should greet nearly maimed people._

_“Hey, yo, Demo... y-ya took a very long nap! Hope ya feel rested now!”_

_As Demo sat, he glanced at them with his eyebrows drawn together, his eye wide open._

_“Who... Who are you people?”_

_Demo placed his palms on the ground, slightly behind him, as he was reading up to crawl away from them._

_“What ya mean, dummy? We are your teammates!”_

_“I’ve had enough of Scout crap. **Don’t** pull a prank on me now, Demo.”_

_“...Who?”_

_The offense classes stared at each other for half a second._

_“What did I just tell you, private?” asked Soldier harshly._

_“Nobody it’s called Demo, that’s not a name,” Demo tried to explain. “That cannot be my name.”_

_“You MAGGOT—!”_

_Scout jumped to Soldier’s neck, hanging from there long enough to stop Soldier._

_“What if he **really** doesn’t remember?!” inquired Scout close to one of Soldier's ears, much more smarter than Soldier._

Back to reality, Demo snorted.

“Hey, why’s dat...?!”

_They peered at Demo. His brows were knit, and he was breathing rapidly. He also had already moved a few inches away from ‘em._

_“I know him, he likes to be a smartass,” argued Soldier back, loud enough to be heard by anybody present._

_“Anyone it’s a smartass for ya.”_

_“Not true. You think you are one, when you are stupid. Even I can tell that.”_

_“UGH! Let’s go back to the point, ‘cuz we have a situation goin’ on here, if you knucklehead already forgot: I don’t think Demo’s really soundin’ like himself. Lemme try this...”_

_Scout closed the space between him and Demo again, standing near his legs. One of Demo’s knees was closer to his body, the other leg spread, pushing the dirt with both of his heels. His hands behind him were semi-buried, sinking his nails on the ground._

_“Sorry, we started with the wrong foot. My name it’s Scout.” He stretched his hands towards Demo. “An’ this is Soldier.”_

_“I am **a** Soldier.”_

_“Whatever.”_

_Soldier walked closer, in front of Scout and to the other side of Demo’s body. He scowled at Scout, all his anger having been placed somewhere else._

_Demo squinted at both, leaving Scout with his hand stretched._

_“That is still not a proper name.”_

_Scout drew his hand back, totally not offended by this. Soldier chuckled this time._

_“Look pal, I dunno what are ya tryin’ to do, but I told ya, we are your teammates. Even better than that: your fri—!”_

_“What do we do?”_

_“Well, I bet ya would enjoy a longer explanation, but I basically beat people’s heads—”_

_Soldier pushed Scout away, and crouched towards Demo. “This is a WAR,” he yelled at his face, “and you are my friend,” added more softly._

_Demo opened and closed his mouth. He nudged Soldier, lightly._

_“Give him some space, man,” suggested Scout. Soldier for once, complied._

_The man sitting on the ground swallowed heavily._

_“So, I murder people too?”_

_“Pretty much.”_

_“What part of W-A-R haven’t you heard, private? You kill ‘em with bombs!”_

_Demo looked down, at the cylinders attached to his (his?) suspenders._

_He began screaming, and fumbled with one of them until he threw it far away, behind of his “friends”. Seeing this, Scout prevently hid behind Soldier, who didn’t move at all. The bomb fell behind them, nothing happening._

_“He didn’t activate it,” explained Soldier. “Maybe he isn’t messing with us. But if he is...”_

_Scout cleared his throat. “Yeah, I-I saw that, clearly.”_

_Soldier chuckled again._

_Demo was done yelling for the moment, though he seemed even more disturbed than before, grabbing his head with both of his hands, taking off his beanie._

_“This is not happening, right? It can’t be...”_

_Scout and Soldier looked at each other, neither of them knowing what to do._

_Scout gasped: “This is even worse than I thought!”_

_“What?!” interjected Demo._

_“Your accent!”_

_“What’s wrong with his accent?” asked Soldier._

_“It's gone! It’s gone man! Holy crap...”_

_Soldier gaped._

_“Which accent should I have?”_

_“Scot!”_

_Demoman stared at them, blankly. “I don’t even remember my name.”_

_“Told ya that’s Demo.”_

_“It’s Tavish!” Soldier corrected._

_“Well, that does sound Scottish, I think...”_

_He squeezed his beanie on his fist, glaring at the terrain fully absorbed._

_Scout pulled from Soldier’s arm. He slowly followed Scout, a few steps away from Demo._

_“Soldier, this-this is really bad.”_

_“I don’t see that, he can be American from now on. He wouldn’t be a disgrace at it, like others.”_

_“What—? He doesn’t remember anythin’ man, anythin’ at all! How he’s gonna work?!”_

_“Oh... I know what I can do to fix this,” announced Soldier with confidence._

Scratching his temple, Demo murmured something unintelligible. Then he tittered, to the surprise of Scout.

“Aren’t ya bein’ too chill ‘bout all of this?

“I’m still hopin’ yer pullin’ me leg, lad.”

“Well, I’m not!”

“Well, fuck!”

Scout smacked the desk again. “I’m not done yet!” exclaimed excited.

“Just go to the point!”

“Soldier said that he saw what to do on the TV.”

“ _Oh no._ ”

“He grabbed his stupid rocket launcher, walked towards ya, and...”

“ _That’s enough._ ”

“He lifted it, and hit you on your head so hard that I could hear your skull crackin’, like _CRAACK_ —”

“ _SCOUT!_ ”

Demoman walked near him. With his hand balled-up, he smashed the desk. The metallic parts of it creaked, and its sound reverberated in the almost empty room.

“I said, _enough_.”

“...After that, I wasn’t happy with what he did, obviously...” continued Scout, regardless of what just happened, regardless of anything.

Demo sighed out loud, throwing his head back. “Oh my God...” He went back to his stool, defeated by Scout’s stubbornness.

“...We dragged ya to the infirmary, n’ Doc did his job, aside from beratin’ us, I mean, beratin’ Soldier. The End. The _Actual_ End.”

“Are ye done for real this time?”

“Um, yes. I think so. What are ya gonna do now?”

Demoman leaned back, thinking. He responded soon after:

“I’ve tae _almost_ murder Soldier now, for sure.” He chuckled.

“Can I see?”

“He isnae goin’ tae be happy to see ye, lad. Nobody likes snitches.”

“That was an accident, doesn’t count. Besides, I can outrun him.”

“Not forever.”

Scout was about to argue back, but both heard footsteps. They were getting closer and closer to them, with the same steady rhythm of somebody marching in a military parade.

Demoman grinned. He quickly went to hug the same wall where the door to the room was, in the farther away corner. Scout stood up, to get a better view of what was about to happen, putting his ball in one of his pockets.

The door was slammed open, revealing—obviously—Soldier below its lintel. He found Scout sneering at him, with a crooked smile. Before he could’ve scowled back at the kid, he was shoved with force against the nearest corner, making him yelp. He banged his head in the wall, his trusting helmet absorbing part of the impact. Soldier tumbled to the floor, and his attempt to free himself was stopped with an armlock, and the full weight of his attacker over him.

All of what he could do was to try to protect his face from the punches, blows and even jabs raining on him.

“ _Ow, ow, ow. HA! YOU CALL THAT A—?!_ _OW_ , _Ouch_ —What did I do _NOW?!_ ” Soldier screeched.

“I’m nae a bloody _CARTOON_ that can be mend with another blow tae the head, ye _DAFT!_ ”

Demoman stopped hitting Soldier, sitting astride over him.

“What do you want?” asked Soldier hoarsely. “Beer?”

“Mmm, that does sound good.” Demo was easy to please.

“Okay...”

Scout jogged closer to them, continuing joggling on site.

“That’s my sign! I’m outta here!”

He stepped over Soldier’s rib cage (“Yoink!”), making him grunt, and ran away from the room through the same door Soldier just walked in.

Demoman got chills on his back. He was aware that he couldn’t stop Soldier for any longer.

As expected, Soldier got upright by pure strength, sending Demo flying out of his way.

“ _Shite!_ ”

He was forced to do a backwards roll, which finished with him hitting his back in one of the school desks, pushing it away. He stood with a kick-up, offering fists to nobody: the only thing with him was his own shadow, Soldier was already gone from the place, likely pursuing the snitch to punish him.

He lowered his hands. _What could I do now?_ He contemplated, rubbing his struck back. The chalkboard was still as empty as it was before.

Inspired by the young lad, he came to the conclusion that he’d enjoy the most seeing what was going to happen next. He could pick a scrumpy or some beer on his way, and watch the show.


End file.
